Chain Reaction
by Akira of the East
Summary: It's funny how even just one action can start so much. It all started with a wandering gaze. Curiosity. A gaze that lingered a little too long in the wrong spot. And evolved into much, much more.
1. Chapter 1

It's funny how even just one action can start so much.

It all started with a wandering gaze. Curiosity. A gaze that lingered a little too long in the wrong spot.

Click.

She would yell at him. Jealousy always got the best of her. He didn't mind, though.

It paid off later.

Their nights would be angry at first. A snap about how he was staring at that woman earlier. He would just get annoyed. Tell her to let it go. He already told her he loved her best, didn't he? So what was the big deal?

That would set her off. She'd yell at him. He'd yell back. Yells turned into screaming. She'd push him, he'd push her right back. Smash his mouth to hers to get her to shut up. It worked. Their screaming would lessen, eventually turning into moans. Oh yes, he'd always think the next morning, his wife curled on his chest. Jealousy was not a bad thing at all.

But then he went too far.

At first it was just quick glances at other women. Nothing too bad, just observing he would tell her. It would still enrage her, though. But then, he figured that if he could get such a reaction out of her just by looking, what would happen if he did a little more?

Next was actually making contact.

He would pass by those women, winking at them. They would giggle, charmed by such a handsome man. Those dazzling blue eyes and fiery hair were an uncommon sight, but not one unwelcomed. It was unique, really. He would stop by and say hello, openly talking to their chests instead of their faces. They wouldn't mind. Oh, his wife did though. She got angrier those nights, but he had to say that really fueled them both. He liked that fire in her, craved it. He liked the way her emerald eyes would glisten frighteningly when he did something she didn't approve of. He liked the way her entire face would flush red with anger. The slight pout she unwittingly made.

He never intended it to end this way. He really didn't. He just wanted a little excitement in his life. To get as much from her as he could.

But eventually, he just couldn't help himself anymore.

He couldn't control himself. Everywhere he looked, something would appeal to him. Not that his wife wasn't appealing to him, that wasn't it. He loved her and the result of their love to bits. But he just couldn't stop himself.

Soon came the Cabaret Clubs. It gave him a thrill to do something so dangerous, by sneaking in to those while his wife was at work and he thought their daughter wasn't watching. If he was caught, he was sure he would be killed right there and then by his lovely wife. That's why it was so dangerous, why it gave him such a thrill. He would just chat and enjoy the view at first. But, oh, how one can be tempted in those kinds of places. So many women, just right there. So many making passes at him, hinting at things he could only imagine.

He let temptation claim him.

And, oh how sweet it was to give in to those instincts, those carnal desires! How relieved he felt after that night with that crimson haired woman. But then he remembered the two he loved most. He felt nothing for the woman in the motel bed with him, nothing at all. He felt nothing for all those other women, either. Not Stacy, or Kiki, or Lea or any of them.

But once he had a taste of temptation…

…He just couldn't get it out of his mouth.

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><p>In case you couldn't tell, that was about Spirit and Kami and how their relationship had kind of...well, gone to hell. Well this is my first story, so i don't really know what to say... uh review, please, I guess? Yeah, reviews sound pretty good. Thanks for reading! :D<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

He finally came home. She had expected this. He had been gone for almost a week without checking in or saying anything.

What was new?

She had had it. She was sick of that stupid intoxicated face of his that she was so accustomed to. She never talked to him anymore, let alone saw him sober. This wasn't the one she had fallen in love with, married, the one who would rock their daughter to sleep or read her bedtime stories before leaving to join her in bed. This was…

…an asshole.

She was surprised she still had tears to shed over this. For years now, this was all she did. She would make it through the day behind a mask. At work, she was all smiles. But when she got home, oh that was a different story. Dishes cluttered the sink. Dirty clothes and used tissues full of her sorrows littered the ground. And at that time, so did a red headed drunk.

"Mama?" She heard that voice calling her. The only thing keeping her going right now.

She turned her head. "Yes, Maka, honey?" She asked, her voice hoarse from the hours of sobbing.

"Papa's back, and he just barfed all over the floor." The 9 year old girl told her. "Should I go get the bucket?"

Crack.

That was it. She had enough. Enough of his lies, his face, his clothes, everything of his. She was sick of this filthy house and the tears and, and just-

She was sick of _everything_.

She stood up. Passed right past the little pigtailed girl into the living room.

There. There he was. Lying right on the floor, clothes a mess, in a puddle of his breakfast.

"Spirit." She called him, so calmly.

He laid there, unmoving, a stupid grin on his face.

One she was just dying to get rid of.

Her façade shattered. "SPIRIT!" She screamed at him. Bending down, she grabbed the tie she spent so much time and effort choosing for him and yanked him up by it. He started awake, utterly confused and choking.

Two green eyes just watched from behind her mother, startled. This wasn't like her strong mama….

He put a hand on the floor, now being supported by that trusty limb and not that foul contraption around his neck.

"K-Kami…" He gasped for air. "W-Wha' tha hell was tha' for? Can't you see I'm not feelin' very well righ' now?" He slurred, bloodshot eyes narrowed in anger.

"…You don't feel very well. YOU. " Her mouth turned up at the corners into a bitter smile. "Heh. Do you have ANY IDEA HOW I FEEL? HOW I'VE BEEN FEELING FOR THE PAST FIVE YEARS?"

"M-mama…" The observer whimpered.

"…Do you have any what it's like to live in a hell like this every day for years?" She whispered. She was that scary calm again. "To come home to a house like this and knowing your husband is out there with another woman, having the time of his life? Who only comes home to mooch off of his wife, saying she's the only one he loves? Do you know what it's like to be lied to like that for years? To cry everyday and all night, and knowing only the same thing will happen the next day? To have to be seen like this by your own daughter? DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH NOT ONLY ME, BUT MAKA HAS SUFFERED BECAUSE OF YOU?"

He looked genuinely surprised. "Y-you… because of me… Maka, too…?" That was all he could muster at the moment.

She'd been feeling this for a while now. The world seemed to have turned darker a long time ago. She felt like she was drowning. The water pulled her in, it's depths luring her in, but she had resisted before. For so long, she fought it.

And fought it.

And fought it.

Everyday was a battle.

But now…

"…I'm sorry, Maka…" she whispered. "I can't do this anymore."

She felt herself sinking, the darkness slowly over taking her. The last thing she was aware of was getting to her feet, and walking to the kitchen, dirt sticking to the soles of her feet with every step.

There.

She grabbed the handle of the drawer. Tugged it open.

Pulled out what was inside.

Ah, sweet salvation came in the form of metal. Light gleamed off of the sleek blade.

She smiled.

Gripped the hard plastic handle.

Raised it over her chest, the cold point teasing the covered skin under her blouse. Her last clean one.

At least she wouldn't have to worry about laundry after this.

"Ma- Mama, what are you-?"

She let go.

Gave in to the darkness.

And down she went.


	3. Chapter 3

He didn't come to the funeral.

He wasn't missed, anyways.

She stood alone, tears streaming down her face. That pretty face, contorted into such a look of utter pain.

"We're so sorry," they would tell her.

"She was a good woman," they would say.

Even though there was a crowd around the anguished girl, it was about the same as being alone.

No, worse than being alone.

She could take care of herself. She did it all the time. She was used to being alone. At least she felt at ease, comfortable.

But here, it was like being alone with the sensation of being watched by hundreds of eyes.

"Is there any way we can help?"

"oh, you poor thing, you must be in so much pain!"

Still, not one person touched her. No one dared even get too close to her, let alone even pat her on the head.

"How could she just leave her daughter like that?"

"I don't get it. She had everything. A family, a good job, a beautiful home. What could've gone wrong?"

"Oh, well I've heard her husband slept around a lot."

"Really?"

"Yeah, she never could keep her leash on him."

"And he doesn't even show up to his own wife's funeral."

Openly talking about her family, as if she never existed. These people should not be here, she thought. They didn't really care that her mother was dead.

"…leave." She whispered. The chatting continued, some even shooting off hoots of laughter.

"leave." She repeated, loudly.

"What is it, you poor little girl?" Some one cooed. So fake. They were all clowns, laughing behind their make up.

"LEAVE!" she yelled, everyone shocked with her outburst.

"Oh, I'm sure you don't mean that, little _Maka_." Someone said.

She glared witheringly at the group behind her. "Oh, I think I would know what I mean, little _asshole_." She spat. "Just LEAVE NOW, ALL OF YOU!" She screamed.

She turned back towards the grave, dozens of bouquets laying at the base of the stone.

"geez…"

"I know her mom just died, but she doesn't have to be so rude…"

"No wonder Kami killed herself…"

"What a little _monster_."

The voices slowly faded away along with the footsteps.

_In memoriam of Kami Albarn_, read the gravestone. Nice and simple. Seeing that made the true weight of the reality suddenly become very real. It had felt like a dream for the little girl, these past 2 weeks had. A horrible, horrible dream. She had held onto the slightest fragment of hope that her mother had in fact fallen into a deep sleep and her father would save the day, realizing her mama was much better than all those other women. He would kiss her mother tenderly, and when she woke up, they would all live happily ever after, Papa and Mama and Maka, their _**princess**_. They would spend their days laughing and doing all the things Maka never had. Maybe they would eat dinner together, would read their baby girl a bed time story, or even go shopping, the three of them. It wouldn't matter where they went, so long as they were together, because as long as they had each other, they would be happy.

Heh. But reality wasn't that kind.

The _**princess**_howled.

Painful screams tore at her throat on their way out. Sob after sob wracked her body uncontrollably. She fell to her knees, clawing the ground of her Mama's resting place. _She can't be gone, she can't be gone, she can't-_

_She can't just leave me like this!_

"Why, Mama? Why did you just leave me all alone!" She screamed to the heavens. Maybe if her mother were there, she could hear her. Feel some of the pain her daughter was in.

Her fingers dug in the soil furiously. She couldn't feel her hands, but that was okay. She didn't care anymore.

Long fingers closed firmly around her wrists. "Stop it."

But she couldn't. She needed to let out her emotions on something. She struggled against the firm grip.

"I said, stop. Look at what you've done."

She glanced down at her bloody fingers, raw from the dirt and rocks scraping against her skin. A fingernail had been torn off, and the others chipped.

Furious at being stopped, she whipped to face the owner of those hands that had interfered. " So what? You don't really care! You're just like the rest of them,!"

Red eyes stare back.

He held his ground. "Like who?"

"Those- Those people that were here! They're liars, just like Papa! They wouldn't even get near me and- and-" She could speak no more.

She withdrew her hands, easily this time.

"…I know." The boy said. He took a seat beside her on the upturned dirt.

Red meets green.

He had odd eyes, this boy does. Can't really say much different about his hair. He looks to be around the same age as Maka.

"I know how that is." He said again.

And she calms. To know she's not completely alone is a reassuring thought.

"…I know how it's like…

…to be called a _**monster**_."

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><p>Review? Please?<p> 


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